


And I'm going under

by JForward



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 08:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JForward/pseuds/JForward
Summary: Jake Peralta isn't breathing, and Amy doesn't know what to do.





	And I'm going under

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! First time writing fic in a long time. I went for what was tried and true for me. Constructive criticism greatly desired, and thoughts of how IC I am. Thanks guys!

There were a few things that Amy was very good at; organisation, of course. And she was a damn good cop. One of the best in the precinct - obviously, her and Jake had had a very intense competition and proven that. Even if he had won. On a technicality. And Amy was determined that she was going to make sure that Captain Holt knew that she was going to be the best detective on this precinct to be his protége. Okay, admittedly, he'd just gotten back from taking down Figgis - but still...  
  
Of course, she couldn't resist letting out her competitive side - just a little. She'd solved four cold cases in one sweep, and she was ridiculously proud. Amy's dark eyes had immediately come up to gloat to Jake, only to be reminded that the young man wasn't at his desk. He'd mumbled something about coffee a little while ago, whilst she'd been powering away through her documents. And now that she wanted to wave some finished reports at her colleague, he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Break room, her ever-quick mind automatically replied. Getting coffee means he's in the breakroom. Has he started stealing lunches again? The young man had gotten over that habit a long time ago, right? A scowl on her face, ready to chew him out if she found him with anyone else's sandwich in his hand. After all, he had his own food - he was just too lazy to actually make anything. And when he ordered things in, everyone else wanted them, so she could kinda-sorta get it...  
  
Of course, she didn't find Jake Peralta, Master Sandwich Thief. She didn't even find Jake, semi-decent snack thief.  
Instead, she found him doubled over, arms wrapped around his torso so tight that he seemed about to shatter; gasping, desperately, each breath laboured; his eyes wide and yet glazed, as if they saw nothing and everything at once. And Amy Santiago's brilliant detective brain ... stopped. Stopped dead. She didn't know what to do.   
  
Because this was Jake. Jake who stood there giggling because a corpse had a hand on his crotch; Jake who made fat jokes to a potentially grieving widow; Jake who made her laugh when they were dealing with someone who physically bit out the throats of his victims. Cases that were horrible, that would drive lesser cops to therapy and potentialy out of the force, they were the cases that Jake made totally bearable - sometimes even fun. This was the Jake she knew, the one she - well - loved. Perhaps. Maybe. Definiely. And now she was looking at him, barely able to breathe, and she didn't know what to do.  
  
"Jake. Oh, god, Jake." she crossed the space in less time than it took to say his name, putting a hand on his shoulder, feeling the way his body trembled. And then she finally placed what was happening.  
  
When Amy had a panic attack, she wasn't like this. She went silent, and rigid, she would totally freeze up. Most people didn't know when it was a Santiago panic attack, usually because she just looked like she was staring into space. Except Jake. Jake. He always knew when she was spiralling. She hadn't had a panic attack at the precinct in such a long time because he always knew to stop her. And here he was, hiding in the break room, with a panic attack that he didn't know how to stop.  
  
"Okay, Jake. You're okay. You'll be okay." she whispered, touching his cheek, and god - that look in his eyes was horrible. This close she could hear his breathing rasping. How close was he to passing out? She put her other hand on his chest, and god, his heart was racing like a rabbit, beating furiously against her palm. "You have to breathe. Follow me. Remember all the times you calmed me down." she whispered, trying not to panic herself. "Come on. In. Out. In. Out. Nice and slow."   
  
That little voice niggled in the back of her mind, wondering if he was going to pass out. His chest was heaving as he tried to follow her instructions, now - but his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were damp, and she had this horrible feeling that she wasn't doing enough and god, if Jake passed out here, she had no idea what she would do. A hand was scrabbling at hers, on his chest, so she clutched it closer, tangling their fingers to try to give Jack some support.  
  
"You're fine. You're safe. In the nine-nine. You said to me once that this is your family, Jake. You think anything's gonna happen? Here?" she smiled gently at him, even as her eyes burned with the tears that wanted to fall. God, it was breaking her heart to see him like this. His face looked weird, too small without that trademark huge grin he always had. She wanted to know, good lord, she wanted to know what had caused this, why he'd hidden instead of letting them help but -   
  
"Figgis." the tiniest whisper, rasping. She was lost, for a moment.  
"Figgis? Jake, what do you mean? We took him down. He's gone." she bit her lip. His heart was still pounding, but she did seem to be calming him a little. Slowly, she got him to sink to sitting on the sofa. "Jake. Come on. Deep breaths. Calm down, then you can tell me, okay?"   
  
Deep breath followed deep breath. His eyes were red-rimmed. His heart pounding. But his breathing was getting clearer, he was holding onto her still, and Amy began to relax that he wasn't going to pass out.  
  
"Now come on, you know Scully and Hitchcock will be in here for snacks soon," she whispered, "And we don't want them to find us like this. And to find you like this, especially." she reached up to brush away a tear with a thumb.  
"When I was... in Florida." Jake said, as clearly as he could. His voice was still shaky, but definitely better. "I was ... Amy. I was terrified. I know what it's like ... in the mob." he swallowed hard, and she made to dart up - to get him water. But he clung to her hand with such ferocity that Amy had to sit again, not sure what else she could do but to listen to him.  
  
"I know what they're willing to do. Hell, some of the stuff I did. For them. And I'm a cop, Amy. I'm a cop. I'm supposed to protect people, but there was only so much I could do when I'm having to keep my cover and -"  
She could hear him panicking again, so squeezed his hand tight. He drew comfort from her, taking several deep breaths, trying to smile. It was shaky and weak, but he made the attempt, that was what mattered. Amy found her hand sliding up over his hair, surprised again by how soft it was... that always caught her offguard. She blinked slowly, leaning in, looking closely at his face - swallowing hard. Jake mimicked it, adam's apple bobbing.   
"I don't know, Amy. I feel guilty. And ..." he paused. "I was scared. For you. I really, really didn't want to lose you."   
  
She caught her breath sharply, as he kept talking. "I kept thinking of Figgis getting you. Of me not knowing until I was allowed back and you were - you were dead." his voice hitched. She shook her head a little, smiling tightly, "And it would utterly destroy me, Amy. So I got ... I got overwhelmed. Seeing the pictures and -"  
"Okay." Amy said, and she stroked his cheek. "Okay, Jake, listen to me. You know what I do, for you, now? You remember what you do for me. You see when I'm spiralling. And you tell me. You tell me. You don't hesitate; you just make sure I know I'm spiralling, you get me out of it, no matter how. I mean, you normally make laugh, but ..." she smiled just a little. "You'll need to tell me, Jake. Don't run away. Please don't run away."  
  
His eyes dropped. "Oi! Running away." she said, tucking a finger under his jaw. "Stop doing that." she realised how close their faces were, but didn't object. Then she leant in, kissing him butterfly-soft, before pulling away. "Tell me if you're going to spiral. And I'll help you. I promise. I love you." she murmured, squeezing his hand again.  
He nodded, and was about to lean in for another kiss, when the door opened. It was Diaz - they turned in sync, looking at her.  
  
"Hey, lovebirds. Meeting. Sarge wants everyone _now_. When you're done canoodling." she looked at them a few moments, eyes lingering on Jake's shadowed face and the way their hands were tangled. Then she turned and left. Said lovebirds let their eyes meet a few moments, took a deep breath, and stood.   
"This conversation isn't over." Amy hissed, out of the side of her mouth. "I plan to talk to you about this."  
Jake rolled his eyes.   
"Title of your sex tape." he jibed lightly.  
She couldn't help but smile. 


End file.
